Hold on to me, I’m a little unsteady,
To say the least, I’m not ready.
If you love me, don’t let go,
But I fell, so what does that show?
These next years seem to go so slow,
I’m lost in these four walls,
Awaiting all your calls,
But ducking from the phone.
This house no longer feels like home.

© Akeem Rowe Kingsinister, 2016

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